


Nassau Shores

by paranormalcy



Series: A Pirate's Life - Pirate AU [2]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games), Uncharted 4 - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Blow Jobs, F/M, Oral Sex, Pirate AU, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Smut, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:31:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranormalcy/pseuds/paranormalcy
Summary: With numbers that are alarmingly low Captain Drake is doing nothing but worry, when you suggest taking a swim while the ship is docked to resupply he confides in you and you end up getting to know each other a little more intimately.





	

The sun beating down on the shore of Nassau is hotter than any you've experienced. You stand on the deck of The Morgan, leaning against the starboard side as you fan yourself with your hands. Most of the crew had left to resupply the vessel, you were one of the few that had stayed behind.

The Captain paced a few feet behind you, worrying his lip between his teeth as he walked. He always worried these days, so tense, so tightly wound; he just couldn't relax, he didn't even want sex... which for him was definitely a signal that something was _very_ wrong.

You'd tried everything from giving him a massage to stripping off completely and laying on his desk pleasuring yourself while he watched. Nothing got his mind off the low numbers. Most of the time it was like he wasn't even seeing you, just staring through you instead.

You sigh, pushing off the railing to walk to him, your feet echoing as you walk across the deck; the ship feels so empty and hollow without the press of sweaty bodies and shouts of men surrounding you, "let's go swimming."

He glances at you, freezing on the spot to scowl, then he resumes pacing, you can see the thoughts ticking through his head, running through the math, his shoulders slump, then he starts again, redoing it over in the hopes that he missed something, he finally sighs, and says, "I'm thinking."

"You can think in the water, come on," you start tugging on his wrist and he sighs, following you as you lead him towards the Jacob's ladder that's still hanging over the side of the ship for the crew to climb up when they return. You turn and start climbing down, Sam following a few meters above.

You lower yourself into the warm, blue water and swim out a few feet to give him room but he stops a few feet up and turns on the ladder, his back hugging the side of the ship. "Move over a little, princess," he tells you.

You shake your head, smiling fondly, and swim closer to the side of the ship. He jumps, flipping over himself into a straight dive, landing in the water a few feet away from you with a splash. _Always showing off_. You bounce as waves ripple out from where he landed, he breaks the surface and pushes his hair out of his face, smiling at you.

God, that was the first smile you'd seen from him in weeks. You cross the water to his side, wrapping your arms around his neck as you smile back, "I've missed your smile," you tell him.

"Yeah?" he breathes, his hands settling on your back, you nod and the smile widens into a grin as he leads you further out, away from the boat. "Have you ever danced in the sea, my princess?"

"Pardon?" you ask, your brow creasing as you look into his eyes, wondering if you'd heard him correctly.

He chuckles, "danced in the sea," he repeats, "it's really quite simple, just like dancing on land really except there's nothing below our feet except the water and the creatures swimming in it."

"Well, lets hope there isn't a Kraken," you smile. He takes your hand and lifts it above your head, you let him spin you and then you move back into his arms. "Or a shark... that would _really_ ruin my day."

"Mm," he smiles, "I'm sure you could take on a shark - you took Eddie's nickname with no problem, might as well _earn_ it next."

"That wasn't intentional," you breathe, "how was I to know the crew would start calling him Sharkbait?" When you delivered that line moments before the finishing blow of your fight, you didn't expect anyone to remember it, let alone make it Edward's new nickname. It was an unforeseen consequence that Eddie still hadn't forgiven you for despite the fact that you'd shaken hands and agreed to let any negative feelings stay firmly in the past. Clearly one of the negative feelings is clingy. Or maybe he just hadn't forgiven you for that final kick.

Sam's fingers brushing your cheek snaps you out of the memory as he pushes a piece of hair back out of your face, he looks amused and you realize you've probably been staring at him for a few moments, "I suppose you didn't think they'd give you a nickname either?"

"I didn't!" You insist, "I just wanted them to stop touching me. I didn't ask to be ' _Andromache_ .' I think the whole thing is frankly ridiculous-" his shoulders start shaking as he tries to hold back his laughter. "And of course _you_ find it funny!"

"Well you have to admit it is _very_ fitting, princess," he tells you, "You are a ' _Fighter of Men_ ,' it's not as if they're exaggerating. They're just letting any new crew members know what they can expect if they cross you," then he grins, "I almost hope one _would_ cross you - I kinda liked watching you beat the crap out of Ol' Sharky."

You scowl at him, "Sam-"

"I know, I know," he sighs. "It's 'frankly ridiculous'," he imitates your voice. You roll your eyes at the poor attempt but your scowl fades slightly. "I can ask them to stop if you want me to," he offers.

You think it over for a moment then shake your head, "no, let them have their fun. It's quite nice seeing the fear in the new recruits eyes when they meet me for the first time."

He leans in to whisper in your ear, "I knew you secretly liked it," and your lips twitch up.

"Only a little bit," you breathe, your eyes closing as his lips ghost their way down your neck. " _Sam_." Your hand comes up and your fingers curl into his hair, his lips twitch up against your skin and then he pulls back - you really don't want him to.

"Come on my Andromache," he says, taking your hand from his head, "let's dance."

Your cheeks flush slightly and you feel him wrap his arm around your waist, "how does this work?" you ask quietly, "do we just swim together or are we actually going to dance somehow? Because I'll have you know I'm not very graceful."

You grins, "oh, I know, I taught you to sword fight, remember?" Your cheeks grow redder as you remember how well _that_ had gone. You'd managed to do relatively okay at first, parried a few times and managed to get a few swipes in which Sam had dodged expertly. Your embarrassment came from the moment Sam was most proud of; the moment you managed to cut him with the sword. Blood immediately welled up from the wound and within seconds the ship's surgeon was yelling at you both. Apparently the cut you had made was _extremely_ close to an artery and ' _it must be stitched up at once lest the artery burst and he bleed to death on the deck in minutes._ ' Sam was then dragged off to the surgeon's quarters while you sat outside worrying that you might've accidentally killed him. You didn't want any more sword lessons after that.

Your mind is jostled back into reality by Sam leading you through the water, you wrap your arm around him, clutching his upper back as he twirls you and glides backwards, all you can do is hold on as he lightly kicks his feet below yours. Your eyes widen as you come to realize you really are doing an odd sort of dance in the water and his lips twitch up at the corners, "like this, princess," he breathes.

You dance for a few more minutes before Sam speaks again, "can I be honest with you, Y/N?" You nod your head and he continues, "the numbers aren't the only thing I'm worried about. I've received word that Edward Teach wants a meeting with me."

"Blackbeard?" you breathe, looking up into his hazel eyes, "what does he want? Is this a good thing? _Bad_?"

"I don't know," he tells you, shaking his head slightly, "only time will tell. _That'_ s why I've been pacing, _that'_ s why I've been so worried lately. It's not the numbers - God, no - we'll make them up somehow, it's _Blackbeard_."

You nod slowly, biting your lip as a smile forms on your mouth, "can I ask you a question, Sam?"

"Depends what it is," he breaks into a grin, "if it's 'can I borrow some money?' then you absolutely can't, if it's 'can I _give_ you some money?' then you absolutely can."

You roll your eyes, wanting so desperately to press your lips against his but knowing that in doing so you'd never have a chance to ask your question... at least not for the next hour or so, "did the crew really give me my nickname? Or was it _you_?"

"Oh, ah..." he grimaces, then lets go of you, swimming back towards the ship, "coming Rafe!"

"Rafe wasn't calling you!" You shout after him, "Sam! You lying son-of-a-bitch!"

He turns and grins at you, holding his arms out, you quickly swim across to him and into his tight grasp, "of course I nicknamed you - you really think I was going to let those knuckleheads do it? They wanted to call you 'face smasher'."

"Isn't Andromache just a fancier way of saying 'face smasher'?" you ask with an amused smile.

His grin doesn't falter for even a second, "ah, well, you've got me there," his fingers skim your cheek, "except it's _Greek_ and it means you smash _men's_ faces." He shakes his head, "but enough of that; I have _another_ nickname for you, princess."

"Really?" You breathe, your heart starting to hammer in your chest as he leans in and brushes his lips against yours, he nods slowly, then breathes a word.

" _Babygirl_."

You can feel it linger in the air, kissing your skin, a shiver goes up your spine and you press your lips against his, roughly, desperately, trying to throw as much passion behind it as you can, then you pull away just enough to whisper, "why don't we go try it out?"

"Good idea," he tangles his fingers with yours and starts leading you back to the Jacob's ladder, you smile to yourself, happy that you'd finally gotten Sam's mind off of worrying but also because you were starting to miss his cock and knowing you were about to be pounded until you ascend to the celestial planes made you want to climb the rigging and sing from the top of your lungs.

He pulls himself out of the water and starts climbing up, you follow behind not caring about the water splashing down on you from his clothes. When he gets to the deck he stops and holds out a hand for you - you don't need it but you take it anyway; any excuse to touch him. Then he lets go and leads you to his quarters, announcing to the few crew members that are still on the ship that you'll be changing into dry clothes.

The moment you're out of sight his lips are on yours and he's slamming you into a wall, you groan, your hands clawing at his back as your leg hitches up around his waist. You gasp as he pulls away from you, _way too soon_ , dragging you towards his quarters and pushing you inside, he slams the door shut behind him and unbuttons his pants. Your hands go to unbutton yours too but he grabs your hands, "no," he tells you, then tangles his fingers in your hair, "on your knees, princess."

You stifle a moan at the request and softly lower yourself to the wooden floor, the hard timbers are uncomfortable under your knees, you reach out and tug his trousers down a little more, pulling his hard cock free. "Do you ever wear underwear?" you breathe, eyes wide at the sight in front of you.

His lips twitch up, "not often, no," he breathes, "they're scratchy."

You look up at his face and his smile turns into a smirk, "do you know how long I've wanted you on your knees like this, princess?" he laughs breathlessly, "kinda funny, isn't it? That you said you wouldn't kneel for any of us... and here you are. _Kneeling_."

You swallow hard, your eyes fluttering closed as his nails scratch against your scalp, "only for you," you breathe, forcing yourself to open your eyes again and look at his erection. You reach out and wrap your fingers around the bottom of the shaft, holding it steady as you lean forward, licking the tip. He makes a noise of approval, you wet your lips then take him into your mouth, slowly sinking down until you can feel yourself trying to gag around him. You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut.

"I know you can do better than that, babygirl," he breathes. He's probably right, you're pretty sure in fact, but he's _big_ and the idea of trying to deep throat him kinda scares you. You pull off, take in a deep breath and look up at him through your eyelashes. God, you want to feel him fuck your face, hopefully you'll adjust to him much faster than you're expecting to.

"Sam?" you breathe, licking your lips again as you shift on your knees to brace yourself a little better. "I want you to fuck my face."

He seems slightly taken aback by your request, but his fingers grasp your hair tightly, and he tells you, "if you need me to stop or you change your mind just... just _punch_ me, alright? I don't want you doing anything you're not comfortable with."

You nod, "trust me - if I change my mind you'll know about it."

He winces, "if that means what I think it does - _please_ try not to."

"I'll do my best," you breathe, then lean forward and take him into your throat as far as you can. He goes slowly as he pushes your head down, your mouth stretches around him as you sink all the way down to the base. You feel your throat spasm as you try to gag around him, but you just relax and let it, your eyes fluttering closed. Your throat seems to give up, the spasms stopping as it just opens up for him, he groans loudly and rocks his hips slightly. You feel your throat try to clench around him but you manage to keep your reflexes in check.

"Ready babygirl?" he asks you. You nod slightly, humming around him with shocking difficulty. He pulls his hips back, almost all the way, and you suck in a desperate breath through your nose, then he pushes them back forward. Your throat contracts around him but only for a second as he pulls back again. You take every opportunity you can to breathe through your nose, every time he pulls his hips back you suck in a breath, every time he pushes himself back into your throat you try to hold on while you feel yourself getting surprisingly light headed.

You're pretty sure this isn't good for you, but right now on your knees in front of Samuel Drake, taking his cock as he fucks your face... you really couldn't give a _fuck_. You feel used in the most filthy, depraved, amazing way and the wetness between your legs is starting to drive you completely wild, your fingers dig into his hips, pulling them along with every thrust.

He's starting to lose it, moans spilling from his lips. You look up at him through your lashes, watching as his head falls back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to swallow around the noises he's making. "Babygirl, I'm gonna cum," he groans, and tries to tug you away by your hair. You wrap your arm around his hips and hold on firmly, your mouth sinking down as far as it'll go. A split second later his cock twitches, a desperate cry of your name slipping from his lips as he shoots his load down your throat, roughly pulling your hair. You try to swallow around him, briefly squeezing your eyes shut as your throat clenches. You're a little taken aback by how hard he came, just how much there is, but given how long it'd been... fuck, it shouldn't have been surprising.

His knees start to give and you pull off, letting him fall to the floor in front of you, panting for breath, "fuck, Y/N, that was..." he shakes his head, "Jesus, _fuck_." You swallow what's left of his cum, your lips twitching up into a smug smile - glad his worrying had stopped even if it was only temporary - then he's pressing his lips against yours and pushing you down onto the wooden floor. You gasp into his mouth as he shifts his weight so he can unbutton your pants. He pulls back and sits up, giving himself room to tug them down.

"Tell me you can get hard again," you breathe, "please, Sam, I need-"

"Fucking hell, princess, give me a minute," he laughs, grabbing your foot to tug your boot off, he pauses to take his own boots off then he frees your other foot and pulls your trousers off. "I'm going to eat your pussy now," he breathes, leaning over you to look into your eyes, "and then I'm going to fuck you on my desk."

You groan, biting your lip, and nod frantically, " _please_ , Sam-"

"Stop begging, babygirl," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw, your eyes close, lips parting, listening to the sounds of his breath next to your ear, "it's not necessary; you've already got me. I'm yours."

You lift up your hips and he slips your underwear off, dropping them onto the floor beside you, he lowers himself down, his fingers spreading you, his breath dances across your wet heat, "Sam," you whimper, your fingers sliding into his hair. He draws his tongue from your entrance up to your clit, drawing quick circles with the tip around it, your eyes roll back into your head. He doesn't hesitate getting to work, he knows what he wants from you and he's going to get it.

He presses his tongue flat against you, licking in long strokes, you're almost embarrassed by the noises you start making but you can't seem to stop them. His free hand grabs yours and holds on tightly, your hips roll against his tongue and he moans, vibrations travelling through your clit. A gasp slips from your lips, your hips starting to move by themselves as you ride his face, "that's it," he breathes, kissing his way down to your entrance.

You whimper and pull his hair, vibrations travel through you as you feel him chuckle, then he's pushing a finger inside you, you blink your eyes open to watch as he trails his tongue back up to your clit, slowly pushing a second finger inside while his tongue starts circling again. His fingers crook into your spot and you push yourself down on them, your breath shaking, " _Sam_..."

His fingers grind into your spot and you gasp, he smiles against you and starts flicking his tongue back and forth, your entire world is suddenly between your legs as you start to near your climax, his name spilling from your lips over and over. You can't stop it. You're not sure you want to. You love how it sounds. You love the moans it elicits from Sam. _God_ , you love it.

He knows when you're about to peak and starts pushing his fingers into your spot more firmly, his tongue circles your clit again and drags you over the edge. Your voice dies in your throat as your jaw falls slack in a silent scream, you're almost certain you've damaged some of the bones in his hand permanently from squeezing it so hard but fuck - _fuck_ , you don't _care_ anymore.

You rock your hips as you ride out your orgasm and before you're ready he's pulling away. You lay staring up at the ceiling panting for air, he slides his fingers back out and straddles your hips, holding your gaze as he licks them clean, then he grins, "how was that?"

"Kiss me," you breathe, "please, God - I need-"

"I'm not God, but hey, I'm flattered," he tells you. You almost want to smack him as he smirks down at you, he's so cocky and smug. He's _infuriating_ , but if the world should end tomorrow there is nowhere you'd rather be than in his arms; you'd gladly go down in a blaze of glory if you went down with him, and you'd die together in this world and you'd find each other in the next.

There was no doubt in your mind that the past few months had not been a coincidence, luck of the draw, no - goodness no. It was fated. It was fated for Sam to find you there, with your dress torn and covered in mud, crying in the street. No one ever cared for an orphan - when your parents passed everyone you thought you could rely on left you to fend for yourself, even what remained of your 'family'... But this pirate Captain spots you sitting there and he saunters up with a lopsided smirk and a ridiculous tip of his hat and says "good afternoon, ma'am. It seems you're looking for an adventure."

You look up at him, sniffing loudly as you wipe your tears with your fingers, and you frown, "adventure?" you repeat, almost laughing because my goodness does it sound absurd, an adventure... "You think _running away with pirates_ is going to solve all my problems?"

He just chuckles, and offers you his hand, "can't hurt, can it? You never know, you might enjoy it. Put a smile back on that pretty face."

"What happens if I don't?" you ask him as you take his hand and stand. He smiles and says, "trust me, you'll love it," and for some reason - some incomprehensible, possibly insane, reason - you decide to do exactly that and go with him. Take his hand and leave your life behind. Not that it was much of a life anyway.  

And now, laying there on your back on the floor of his quarters you realize just how right he was. This cocky, smirking bastard was right. You do love it. You love being a pirate. "Sam," you breathe, reaching up to grab the front of his shirt, your eyes meet his hazel ones and you hold his gaze, "kiss me."

He ducks down to press his lips against yours, your eyes fluttering closed as you savour the feeling, the _taste_ \- he tastes like you. Your tongue starts teasing his lip and he pushes his own tongue into your mouth in response eliciting a moan from you. An arm comes up to wrap around his neck and your other hand settles on his shoulder blade, your legs wrapping around his waist.

When you break for air you quietly ask him, "how much longer until I can have you inside me? Your tongue is talented but I miss your cock, Sam; I miss the stretch."

He chuckles softly, shifting his weight so he can brush loose hair back out of your face, "how about we have a little rest first? Then when we wake up I'll have the chef bring us dinner and I promise you, _then_ I'll bend you over my desk."

"Okay," you breathe, only because you were starting to feel the effects of the orgasm he'd given you and sleep sounded pretty nice. "In your bed?" He nods and you add, "together?"

His lips twitch up and he nods again, "if you want to, yeah. I don't mind sleeping in the chair."

This time it's your turn to nod, "in your bed. With you. Help me up, Captain." He pushes himself off you and scrambles to his feet, offering you his hand, for the second time today you take it and he pulls you up. You let go immediately and start removing the remainder of your clothes.

He grins and starts doing the same, then your eyes catch on three small round scars on the side of his stomach. Your stomach lurches and you move forward, your hand reaching out to touch them, "what are these?"

He flinches back, "I, uh..." your fingers brush the skin and you can tell they're old wounds, "I was shot," he admits, "barely survived."

Your eyes widen as you look up at him, "I'm sorry," you pull your hand back, "I shouldn't have-"

He catches your hand and pushes it against the scars, "they mean I survived, right? It was the darkest time in my life and I survived it. And now..." he hesitates and then says, "now I have you. And I'm grateful." He pauses then quickly adds, "not for _being shot_. God, no. But that I got to meet you, you're really... really somethin'." He smiles nervously, "I'm not very good at this, am I?"

You laugh, "if you're trying to say 'thank you for the great blowjob,' you're doing an absolutely lousy job," you tell him, "a proposal however - you're off to a decent start."

His cheeks flush and he clears his throat, "ah, well-"

"I'm joking," your lips twitch up. He laughs nervously and you grab his hand, "come on, Captain. You've worn me out." You lead him to his bunk and push him down first. He swings his legs up and lays back, reaching out for you. You climb on next to him, trying to fit beside him in the crowded space, he frowns and pulls you on top of him. "There's not enough room for that, princess," he breathes, his hands settling on your bare back, "you're going to wake up on the floor."

"But if we sleep like _this_ you're going to wake up hard," you say.

He shrugs and you notice he's definitely not nervous anymore, "wouldn't be the worst thing to happen. I guess we'll have to have dessert before dinner, won't we?"

Your lips twitch up, "absolutely," then you lean up and press a short kiss to his lips, you linger, wanting to continue. No, you remind yourself of what will await you when you wake up and you tear yourself away. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you awake, after all. "Goodnight, Sam."

"It's still daylight," he tells you, nodding towards the window, his brows knitting together in confusion for the briefest second before he breaks into a grin, "don't you mean good afternoon?"

You roll your eyes and lay your head on his shoulder, " _goodnight_ , Sam," you repeat.

He chuckles, his grin not fading, "goodnight, Y/N."


End file.
